Tuesday, August 21, 2007

First Day of school/Escort Service

I am used to blogging, when a thought pops in my head. I do not edit, or spell check. I just type it, to get it out of my head. My blog has turned into a sort of scriptotherapy in some cases. Although I must say, there seems to be more and more that I choose not to blog about.

The first day of school has been one of those things I have struggled with. I am unsure how to put it up without offending anyone. I am also starting to realize I probably need to be a little more careful about Sir Rowland, because after all it is "his life". I do not want to embarrass him with my posts.

So I am going to try and keep this as honest as possible, in order for my blog to continue working as my inexpensive therapy. Because this past 2 days, has been difficult for me. I am really trying not to be dramatic about it.....but I wish I could just make it easier.

Monday morning, the four of us were all here under one roof. WOW, so I felt it imperative that DH walk Sir Rowland into school. DH has missed a lot of Milestone moments with The Collective, and I figured, SR and Daddy needed a moment. I also allowed Pink Ninja to go, as she is loosing her playmate, she is curious about school as well.

I tried to hang back as much as I could. I kept myself busy with snapping photos, and followed behind them. Sir Rowland found his playmate he met at VBS, grabbed her hand, brought her over to us and introduced us all. He was so thrilled to see her. Because she is familiar, and is also in Kindergarten, and is sitting right next to him.

I was releived to see him smiling, and open, and with a friend.

I did not cry at the school, I was good, and there did not seem much reason for it.

DH took Pink Ninja to the park after we dropped SR off at the school, so I could come home and take a bubble bath. I did do that, but I will admit to having a little difficulty concentrating. Part of me was simply missing SR, and the other was really just waitng for a phonecall.

You see SR is not used to the preschoolization/daycarzation of our youth. Which is to say I am a SAHM, and he has not been exposed to standing in line, waiting your turn, buddy system, listening to other adults, etc. Plus, with the added bonus of having a child that can do minor math calculations, can tell you that an LED is a light emitting diode and how it works, and has the tendency to process visual cues, better than auditory ones. Well, it has filled me with a certain amount of trepidation.

Frankly I have tried to make the transition as easy, and painless as I can, because I know the framework for a good attitude for learning is important, and I really wanted to make sure he is ready.

And honestly, I think I have him about as ready as I can possibly have him. It is time. Hence, why I picked the Academy, it is small. 11 in his class. 3 Kindergarten children, and 8 first graders.

SR did do a short stint in a Mothers Day Out Program 3 years ago (?), but after catching EVERY disease in a 3,000 mile radius, and bringing those germs home to a newborne infant, and DH being deployed. I nixed the Mothers Day Out program after about 3 months. The trips to the Dr. and pharmacy every 4-7 days, and sleepless nights due to RSV, rota virus etc...well it was to much for this mil-spouse.

Anyway that brings us to Monday again...

So I sent him, and did not get a call. ahhhhhh.....I also resisted the tempataion to call the school about 40 times.

WE loaded up at pick up time, and DH and I were greeted by not only his teacher, but the principal.

That is never a good sign, is it?

So they tell me, SR got up and left the classroom twice. However, it seems as though the rest of his day went well. They went ahead and gave him a first grade reader, which he is flying through....very easy for him. Oh and he got a wekkly Bible verse to memorize. He read it, memorized it-done. Not a bad day considering, but it did not stop me from having a good cry on a short drive, while alone. I am sure it is a lot of combined emotions. Reintergration, DH starting a new job, Kindergarten, a change in roles for me, coming off those damn hormones...but I cried. Damnit.

Today I went to pick up SR, and I see my little man, being led by the principal (again) who also has a hand full of papers. So I stand and wait, with a sick stomach.

He left the room again.

So he had to write "I will not run away" 12 times on paper tonight. Which he finished. He has pretty decent handwriting for a 5 year old.

But other than that it seems he had a good day.

I did not cry tonight.

I am trying to figure out why SR left the room. Was he on sensory overload? Was he trying to avoid being seen flapping his hands, chewing his shirt, or various other nervous ticks he has? Did he need a time out? I am unsure, as he is unclear as to why he is leaving.

The having to write "I will not run away" 12 times, well that might have done the trick. As when you are 5, and have taught yourself how to write, and are a perfectionist, well things can take a while. He was trying to be REAL neat with it, and I really dicouraged neatness. As he was spending more time erasing than he was writing. I tried to explain to him, he was 5, and his handwriting did not have to be PERFECT. I do not think he enjoyed his writing assignment.

I have been trying to praise him. As honestly, I am surprised, he is being able to hang from 8:15- 2:55. That is a long day, when you are used to the comforts of home, and have no preschoolization/daycarzation. I will also say, I do not agree with full day Kindergarten. I think it benifits working parents, and not necessarily children. 7 hours is a long time to expect much order from 5 year olds. But I am not an educator by trade.

So, SR is actually doing better than I had expected. He really is. I recieve a written report daily, and both days, he has had a smiley face, and they have been reported as good days. I am trying to focus on the positives, instead of anticipating the worst. But when you see the principal the first 2 days of school, well........

My pessismistic streak, Midwestern upbringing, and socio-economic upbringing, are leaving me with a sort of waiting for the other shoe to drop feeling, which I wish I could shake.

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